


The Swedish Slaughterhouse

by WoodleNoodle



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers, SCP Foundation
Genre: 2P Hetalia, IKEA, It gets really edgy, Nobody dies (yet), Norway is a tsundere, SCP-3008, Ships are mostly just implied, obviously lmao
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-14
Updated: 2018-05-06
Packaged: 2019-03-31 05:56:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 9,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13968807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WoodleNoodle/pseuds/WoodleNoodle
Summary: Sweden drags the other Nordics to yet another IKEA. Little do the five know, they have actually entered SCP-3008-1. Can they escape? Better question; will they? Based on a Tumblr post by Hetalia-crackfessions.





	1. Never Enter The IKEA

Yet another pointless trip to IKEA. This was not uncommon at all with Berwald. A new IKEA had opened up nearby, and that was apparently reason for a family trip there. So, after a long argument with Mathias, Berwald was still dragging them there anyway. Emil, of course, did not care. He would listen to music the whole time, which was why he was the first to notice something wrong with this IKEA. Five minutes after they'd walked in the door and Berwald was sensually stroking some random lamp, Emil's music suddenly stopped.

He growled, taking his phone out of his pocket, finding that the signal had disappeared. Frustrated, he walked off to just leave the damn store and listen to his music while Berwald "furniture fucker" Oxenstierna stuck his dick in an IKEA nightstand or something. Except he couldn't find the exit. He ran back to the others, terrified for his life because they hadn't even gone far and they were already lost.

"Guys! I can't find the exit!" Emil shouted.

Berwald turned to him, raising an eyebrow. "Why would y' want t' leave?"

"Because this place has no damn signal," he huffed. Berwald grabbed his phone, Emil immediately smacking his hand away. The Icelander had some embarrassing things on his phone, and he generally didn't trust people with his stuff.

Mathias slowly clapped. "Great job, Sverige! Ya got us lost in another IKEA!"

Lukas rolled his eyes and smacked his hand. "No he didn't, my lillebror just has no sense of direction. The exit is right over here." He grabbed Emil's hand, pulling him toward where the door should have been, only to be completely bewildered when he was met with only bookcases. "What? No, I must have taken a wrong turn by the office."

"You really didn't," Emil assured him, but his older brother was having none of it. He'd navigated plenty of IKEAs in his time, always finding a way even after Berwald got them hopelessly lost. Yet, here they were, taking turn after turn, passing by chair after table. At some point, Lukas sighed and swallowed his pride. "I'm lost," he admitted.

"Great, now where is everyone else?!" Emil snapped.

This made Lukas's heart sink. He paused. He had no idea where everyone was. They were completely lost in some sort of hell IKEA. Thoughts raced through his head, how they would starve in here, how they would never find their family again, how he would never be in Mathias's arms again. Wait, no, he did NOT think that last one. He didn't care if he never got to be in Mathias's arms. That would be a good thing if he wasn't, he hated Mathias. Stupid Mathias couldn't get them out of going here, what an idiot. Stupid, idiot Dane that Lukas didn't care about.

"Don't know," he mumbled with a shrug.

"Helpful," Emil replied sarcastically.

"We're bound to find them if we keep looking." With that, Lukas took the teen's hand again. There was suddenly a loud, mechanic, _THUNK!_ and all the lights went out. The two brothers stood together in complete darkness.

"What was-" Emil started, before being cut off with a, "Don't know."

Lukas lead him through the darkness, only tripping over a few things, before feeling around and finding a bed. "It must be closing time or something. We'll get nothing done in the dark, so we should sleep for now."

Emil rolled his eyes, mumbling a, "This is so ridiculous," as he got in bed. Lukas gave no response, getting into bed as well. Soon enough, his arms were wrapped protectively around his brother's small form. Emil hissed, pushing him away and wriggling over to the other side of the bed. "Don't touch me!"

"But I'm your big brother," the Norwegian replied.

"And?! You don't have to protect me, I'm not a child!" Emil argued.

"Come on, let big brother hold you..."

"No! You're being weird!"

"Come on, Emil, you don't have to act all brave, nobody's watching. I know you're still afraid of the dark. It's nothing to be embarrassed about."

"I'm not afraid of the dark, I'm afraid of what could be IN it!"

"More reason for me to protect you," Lukas mumbled, crossing onto Emil's side of the bed and holding his brother close once more. "...And I'm a little scared, too. This makes me feel a little safer. So just let me hold you, okay?"

Emil let out a small noise of embarrassment, struggling a bit before sighing and getting comfortable in Lukas's arms. Sleepiness was taking over fast, and he didn't have the energy to keep fighting, especially when he felt so warm and safe. So, he cuddled up to the Norwegian, slowly closing his tired eyes and softly whispering, "Góða nótt, Lukas."

"God natt, lillebror," came the reply, followed by a yawn. Soon, the two brothers fell asleep, holding each other close, both afraid that they would never wake up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I don't have much to say, but welcome to the fic. I don't know what this is the beginning of, but it's the beginning of... something. It's 1 AM, I should definitely be asleep, but I got the sudden urge to write this and I just had to! I'll try to update regularly, but I don't have the easiest time with that.
> 
> But, general stuff aside, my only real author's note is that I don't have the best understanding of sibling relationships since I'm an only child, so if interactions between Norway and Iceland seem weird and get a little too close... that's probably why.
> 
> Ah, this is getting to be too long and weirdly personal, sorry. Let's hope I remember to keep up with this, eh?


	2. Moral Of The Story: Lamps Are Bad News

Tino huffed, glaring at Berwald. Every time they went to IKEA, he inevitably got jealous of an inanimate piece of furniture. I mean, not like you could blame him. After all, Berwald would usually sacrifice almost anything to spend even a little time with his cute little Finn. Now he was giving more affection to a lamp than his own wife, despite Tino's constant attempts to get his attention.

Tino grabbed his arm, trying to pull him away. "Ruotsi!" he shouted, but he didn't get a reply. Either something was definitely wrong or the Swede was way too into this Duderö floor lamp. While Tino thought it was a pretty neat lamp, he really didn't think it was more worthy of Berwald's attention than he was... then again, he felt the same way about the last three furnishings his husband had looked at, so maybe it was just him.

Tino frowned, shaking Berwald's arm. "RUOTSII!"

But nothing. Huffing, he turned and ran. He didn't want to be with a husband who was more interested in a lamp than him. Tears filled his eyes as he collapsed behind a bookshelf. A muscular pair of arms grabbed him from behind, picking him up. Tino turned, only to see Mathias.

"Hey buddy, don't get too down about Sve. I'm always right here." He smiled, setting Tino down and turning him around so he could give him a big, warm hug. Tino wiped away a tear, nodding as he hugged back. "I-I'm sorry I ran away..."

"It's fine!" The Dane chuckled, letting go of Tino and patting his back."I woulda done the same if my cute little Norge were ignoring me for a stick of butter."

This got Tino to finally smile, letting out a small giggle. "Yeah, I guess. Should we get back to him?"

Mathias nodded, running off. Tino ran after him, realizing suddenly that he had no idea which direction he had come from. Hoping the Dane knew, he continued to chase. Spoiler alert; Denmark was just as navigationally inept, if not more. It was probably the second biggest reason he hated IKEA (the biggest being its Swedishness).

By the time they had both tired out from running, they both fell on top of a comfortable 6 seater couch, giggles escaping from them between pants. Mathias looked over to Tino, grinning. "I beat ya~"

Tino giggled, lightly smacking him in a playful gesture. "I'll beat you next time!"

"Sure ya will. By the way, Finny... uh, where are we...?"

Tino blinked and looked around. "Well, I thought you were leading me back to Ruotsi..."

"Nope. I have no fuckin' clue where we are," Mathias admitted with a grin, before realizing what that meant. "We're lost now, aren't we?"

"And no Lukas to help us, either..."

At that, the Dane started tearing up, tightly hugging Tino as he cried, "We're gonna die in here and it's all my faaauult!"

The Finn sighed, stroking Mathias's hair gently. "Calm down, Ta... we'll find our way back to the others. I'm sure of it. Even if we don't, it is my fault for running off."

Denmark nodded, sniffling and wiping away a tear. "O-Okay..."

Suddenly, everything became dark. The noise accompanying the lights shutting off alone made Tino let out a very effeminate scream, before he started clinging to Mathias, trembling. "W-What just happened?!"

"I think the lights went out."

"That much is obvious, but why?!" Tino looked around, hoping to see some kind of light. Aha! The lamps nearby were on! And someone was standing by them! Too excited to question any of this, Tino tightly gripped Mathias's hand and more or less dragged the Dane behind himself as he got up and ran to the stranger. That's when he noticed their outfit; the IKEA employee uniform! They could ask for directions to the exit, or at least get help finding Berwald!

"Mister, thank God you're here! We-"

"The store is closed. Please leave."

Tino faltered. "Erm- that's actually... could you, perhaps, lead us to the exit? And help us find our-" He paused as the staff member turned around. First off, how could he have not noticed something having arms that freakishly long? Second off, where the hell was its face?! Before he could even scream, the thing lunged at him. He quickly dodged it, before running as fast as his tiny little legs could carry him while dragging Denmark along.

Thankfully, the Dane managed to regain some of his sense and started running as well, even faster. It ended up that he was dragging Tino behind him now. They weren't sure how long they ran before they seemed to have lost the thing. They still ran for an extra five minutes before collapsing onto what was probably a bed.

"W-What was that thing?" Mathias asked, panting and out of breath from running so fast.

"I don't- I have no earthly idea," Tino answered, in quite the same state. "Whatever that was... I hope it doesn't find us again..."

Denmark sighed, sitting up. "I guess if the store is closed or whatever... we're better off gettin' some sleep and tryin' to leave when it's open again, right?"

"But- what if it finds us and kills us in our sleep?"

"You sleep, then. I'll be standin' guard and wake ya if it shows."

Tino nodded, groping around in the dark before finding the covers and pulling them back, getting half under them and half out so he could easily get up and run if he had to. "Oh, well... maybe we should switch, too. You need some sleep as well."

"That works for me," Mathias agreed with a smile. "Well, in that case- godnat, Tino!"

"Hyvää yötä, Mathias," Tino sleepily mumbled, before drifting into unconsciousness.


	3. Will People Please Stop Going Missing?

In the morning (at least, what was probably the morning), Lukas was awoken by a distant scream. Being too sleepy to properly process this, he yawned, stretched, and immediately went back to sleep. As typically happens when you're only awake for ten seconds, he completely forgot about this.

But when he woke up  _again,_ he actually got up. He sat up, looking around in confusion.  _Where the hell am I,_  he wondered, before yesterday's memories hit him like a brick. Scowling in annoyance at Sweden, he put his hand down at the bed, expecting to find his little brother and wake him up. Except, evidently, Emil was not there. Lukas's heart sank as he looked down at the empty space in bed beside him.

The sheets were tossed to the side. He let out a sigh of relief; maybe Iceland had woken up already and was just looking around. He got out of bed, looking around.

"Ice?" He called, only to be met with no reply. He repeated himself, a little louder. Still nothing. Furrowing his brows, Norway wondered where his brother might be.

 _If I were Iceland and I woke up before Big Brother in Hell IKEA, where would I go?_ He thought to himself. He paused, shuddering as a less than pleasant memory returned to him.  _The refridgerators. Of course._ Then he wondered if finding his brother was worth mentally scarring himself again. He decided it was worth it and headed off to find the refridgerators.

As Lukas approached the refridgerators, he heard a breathy moan followed by his brother's voice. "Don't worry, ísskápur," Iceland whispered, his voice strained, "I'll make sure they don't find us..."

Briefly questioning himself whether or not he wanted to know what  _ísskápur_ meant, Lukas quietly called, "Iceland?"

"Skít- Nore?"

"Please don't tell me you were just-"

"Shut up, Lukas! Our love is just as real and meant to be as you and Den!"

"I DO  _NOT_ LOVE DENMARK!"

"IT'S PAINFULLY OBVIOUS, NOR, JUST ADMIT IT!"

Norway huffed, blushing lightly. "Respect your elders, lillebror. Now get out of there and help me find everyone else."

Rolling his eyes, Emil pulled his pants up and came out from behind the fridge. He then stormed off, Lukas having to follow him. As they wandered, the brothers kept bickering about who had a thing for the stupidest inanimate object (Norway's argument being that refrigerators couldn't double as lube and Iceland saying that if they could, refrigerators couldn't go rancid inside you. All in all, it was a ridiculous discussion). By the end of it, they both shut up because they realized that an IKEA was basically Sweden's idea of a perfect Japanese love hotel, and that thought made Emil extremely uncomfortable.

But, of course, their arguing didn't stop completely.

"Come on, Ice, you've never even won."

"There's a first time for everything! It's way better than  _your_ song, at the very least!"

"Nobody can beat Alex-"

Their argument about Eurovision was interrupted by a very panicked Finn throwing a table right in front of them. "Has anybody seen Denmark!?"

Both brothers shook their heads, Norway more worried than he would admit. Finland paused, staring at them. "Wait... oh, Norway! Icey!" He giggled, tightly hugging them. "We were looking for you two yesterday!"

"Oh, you were? Sorry," Lukas mumbled, Iceland rolling his eyes and pointing to the oldest of the three nations. "He's the genius who got us lost. Blame him."

"Oh, it's fine!" Tino shrugged. "Ta and I would have been missing, anyway. I ran off and he followed me." He sighed, staring sadly down at the ground. "Unfortunately, that means Berwald is completely missing..."

"And now Mathias, as well," Iceland finished.

"Well, what are we waiting for?! Are we going to just stand around doing nothing?" Norway huffed, glaring down at them.

Emil smirked up at his brother, teasing him a bit. "Why so eager, Nore? Just can't wait to see your boyfriend again~?"

"He is  _not_ my boyfriend. You can miss a friend. You probably miss Hong Kong right now, don't you?"

Iceland blushed, looking away. That probably wasn't the best example. "Shut up."

Tino watched the two bicker, giggling. "You fight like little children, but Lukas has a point, why wait around? We have Vikings to rescue!"

The way Finland used the word  _Vikings_ almost made Lukas feel sick. Still, he nodded. "Sure. Let's go find them."

Tino nodded, grabbing Norway's hand and running off into IKEA to find their ~~boy~~ friends. Iceland shouted at the two to wait up, running after them.


	4. A Pointless Filler Chapter

_Thirteen days later..._

Lukas sighed in relief as the lights turned on again. They had survived another night. He turned back to the bed, where Tino and Emil were still asleep. The faint trace of a smile crossed Norway's face for a moment as he looked down at his little brother. He was so cute when he slept. Sighing, he slowly shook the two awake. It was fairly easy to wake Finland, and he got up without much arguing. Of course, he complained about the lack of coffee, but Norway couldn't blame him much for that. He was suffering from coffee withdrawal as well.

Iceland was harder to wake up. He kept swatting the elder nations' hands away, mumbling something like  _"Five more minutes,"_  and then going back to sleep. Lukas estimated it took roughly half an hour to get him up, and that was a new record.

When all three were up, they returned to what they had been doing the past few days. Wandering aimlessly about, looking for the other Nordics, bickering (this was mostly between Norway and Iceland), complaining, and trying not to die.

Fortunately, this place had a seemingly infinite supply of fresh Swedish meatballs. That was about the only good thing- well, in Lukas and Tino's opinions. Emil liked when he got the last guard shift, because he got to spend some quality time with the refrigerators before the others woke up. That was still only two good things about being here, though.

"This place seems to go on forever," mumbled Lukas.

Emil nodded in agreement. "I think that's because it does. This is hopeless. We'll be lucky to find any trace of your boyfriends, dead or alive."

"He is  _not_  my boyfriend!" Norway protested.

"Mathias and Lukey, sitting in a tree, K-"

"We'll never find them!" Tino interrupted, on the verge of tears. "I'll lose Ruotsi forever and it's all my fault for running off!"

That was another common thing. At least several times a day, either Iceland or Finland would lose hope and break down in tears, and the other two would have to comfort him. All of them were breaking, to varying degrees. Even Norway would, at night, when everyone else was asleep, throw his emotionless facade aside and let a few tears fall. Once, Finland had woken up during this, but he was so shocked to see cold, calculating, stoic Lukas crying, that he wrote it off as hallucinations (from sleep paralysis or madness, he didn't want to know) and went back to sleep.

Lukas sighed, pausing to tightly hug the Finn, stroking his hair. That usually helped him calm down. "It's not your fault, Tino. I would have run off, too. Besides, Sweden is the one who brought us here, right?"

Finland nodded, sniffling and wiping away a tear. Emil gently rubbed his back, shrugging. "We've been doing a good job surviving together, haven't we? I mean, maybe Dan and Svi found each other. Maybe they're working together-"

"-for once," Norway interrupted.

"-to survive, too. Maybe they're looking for us. We'll find them eventually, Fin. I promise."

"Not really something that you can guaruntee-"

"Shut up, Nore, I'm trying to help!"

"Whoops. Yeah, I promise to at least try and find them."

Tino simply nodded, pulling himself away from the taller nations. "Alright... you're right. We can't give up! We have to find Berwald!"

"And Mathias," added Iceland.

"That idiot's probably going to get us killed."

" **And Mathias** ," Iceland repeated, refraining from punching his brother in the face.

"Whatever." Norway rolled his eyes, grabbing the younger nations' hands and leading them deeper into the IKEA.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so, so sorry this is late! Stuff happened and I couldn't get on my computer to write, but I'm back! I hope you understand! As compensation for the wait, I've written two chapters today! Oh, and happy Easter to those of you who celebrate, but have a good day anyway if you don't.


	5. Mathias Can't Say No To This

_That same day..._

Mathias trembled, clutching a table leg to his chest. He'd been using the table leg as a weapon, evidenced by the blood on the sharp and pointy end. He wasn't sure how long he had been here. He was terrified to find out. He looked a disaster, covered in cuts and bruises. He had a bandage over his left arm, covering a particularly nasty wound he'd gotten from one of those deformed staff things managing to steal his axe from him (Yes, he had carried his battle axe into an IKEA. Nobody knew how this was allowed, but he did it every time.) and nearly severing his arm off with it. He had a smaller lamp just poking out of his IKEA backpack, lighting his way. It wasn't plugged into anything, but he was too exhausted to question a good thing.

With shaking knees, he continued on through the darkness. He whimpered in pain whenever he had to move his left arm to push his hair out of his face. He was too paranoid that something would attack him if he was unarmed for even a moment, however, so he did anyway. His hair had stopped defying gravity sometime in the last week, so it constantly fell in his eyes.

Denmark paused suddenly, gaping at what he saw. In the distance, there was a light on. Hope! He gripped his table leg tighter as he excitedly sprinted toward the lights. He hadn't felt this hopeful about anything since he left home. His quick footsteps echoed loudly through the store. A few minutes later, he'd finally reached the light. It seemed like someone had built a fortress out of IKEA furniture.

Above the fortress, a sign hung from the ceiling. It read,  _Lockers_. Mathias stood there, gaping at it all in amazement. Then he noticed the noise. People were inside, talking. He walked up to the doors, knocking. A red eye looked through the peephole. There was a gasp, and the doors were thrown open.

Before Mathias stood someone who looked almost exactly like Norway, wearing (adorable) bunny pajamas. The stranger, however, had the previously mentioned red eyes, as well as red hair. Where Lukas had a floating hair 'fjord', the doppelganger had one as well, though it split off into two curls. The odd looking man grinned wide (which looked out of place yet simultaneously stunning on Lukas's face), throwing his arms around a confused Denmark.

"Dane!" The stranger exclaimed, before pulling away, looking quite annoyed (which looked significantly more normal). "I was so worried about you! Don't you ever go out that close to dark without me again! And I mean it, Dane, never ever in forever! Not even once, okay?! Now come on~!" He huffed, taking Mathias's hand in a death grip, slamming the doors behind them as he dragged the Danish man toward a row of beds, only one of which was empty.

Mathias stared down at him, absolutely puzzled. "Um... Lukey...? Wha...? I mean- I definitely won't. Not at all."

The stranger sighed, nodding. "You must be tired. I'm- I'm sorry for yelling at you. I was just so worried and... oh, who cares! I'm so happy you're back~! I was sure you were a goner!" He tightly hugged Denmark, squeezing the air out of his lungs in the process. He smiled, nuzzling into his chest, before his gaze turned murderous. "Never ever leave my side again..."

Denmark, still pretty lost and a little intimidated now, nervously nodded, hugging back. "I mean, I won't, sure. But... er, who... are you...? And why are ya so happy to see me...?"

The Norwegian paused, giggling and waving the question off. "Don't be silly, Dane~! You know me, I'm Loki! Your  _boyfriend!_ "

Mathias blushed lightly, still a bit confused, but hey- this Loki guy, who looked almost  _exactly_  like Lukas, was all over him, claiming to be his boyfriend. He hadn't seen Norway in maybe, what, three weeks? He couldn't resist nodding along and saying, "Right, sorry. I didn't recognize ya for a minute there, babe. Happy to see ya too."

Loki blushed, grinning like a completely infatuated nerd. He grabbed Denmark, pushing him down onto the empty bed and sitting right on top of him. "You're so silly sometimes~!" He leaned down, roughly kissing him. Mathias was frozen with shock, unsure what exactly to do. On one hand, he loved Lukas and didn't want to be with anyone else, and this wasn't Lukas- hell, he barely even knew this Loki guy.

On the other hand, Loki looked just like Lukas, who was insanely hot, and his mouth (somehow) tasted like motherfucking  _chocolate!_  That was like heaven to Mathias after two weeks of just Swedish meatballs! After a moment, he decided to kiss back, finally dropping his table leg and resting his hands on Loki's hips as the Norwegian's hands ran through his hair.

Loki pulled away after a minute, panting lightly. He hummed contentedly, resting his head on Denmark's chest. "Huh, weird. You don't taste like cigarettes anymore."

Mathias shrugged, deciding to go along with it. "Ran out earlier today."

He nodded, apparently satisfied with his answer. "Good." He sat up, pulling Denmark closer until he was sitting up as well, Loki in his lap. The Norwegian smiled down at him, hands resting on his chest, before kissing him hard. They were lucky to have not woken anyone up with all the other things they had done that night, but by the end of it all, Loki was content, asleep in Mathias's arms. Yet the Dane could not sleep, guilt settling uncomfortably in the pit of his stomach as he held Loki in his arms, as if he truly loved him as he loved Lukas.


	6. Emil Has A Useless Flashback

_A month later..._

Norway paused. Their group of three had been walking for a while now, maybe two and a half hours. He was getting tired. The other two stopped as well after a moment, glancing back at him. Finland called, "Lukas?"

The Norwegian answered with only silence, words failing him. He fell to his knees, shaking. Tino stared at him, perplexed. He wasn't sure what was going on or what to do, and in all honesty, he was a bit scared. This was extremely unusual, and he wasn't a huge fan of the unusual, especially when he didn't have access to a shotgun or rifle of some kind. He stepped back. Emil, on the other hand, had an idea what was going on. A vague idea, but an idea. That did not make him any less scared; he was, in fact, horrified at the idea that even Lukas was breaking. He had only seen his brother do this a handful of times before, all of which when he was a child. He tried to recall the last time this happened.

 _June tenth, 1940_ , he clearly remembered the date. He'd known that it had been significant for some reason at the time. He wasn't completely sure about what was happening at his brother's house, or most of Europe. Yet, he had to stay with Denmark in Germany anyway- he couldn't remember why. But he knew he should remember the date. He was about twelve.

_Emil huffed, pulling his hand out of Mathias's grasp. "I'm almost a teenager, Dan," he complained, "I don't need you holding my hand!"_

_Denmark sadly looked down at him. He'd seemed awfully depressed for the past two months, and though the Icelander tried to cheer him up occasionally, nothing seemed to work. "Emil," he mumbled, "I don't want you getting lost with all these Germans around. I don't trust these guys not to hurt you."_

_"But you let Mister Germany come in without even complaining, why'd you do that if you don't trust him?" Emil asked._

_Mathias pulled back a bit, a look in his eyes like he'd just been stabbed in the heart. "E-Emil... I did it to protect my people, we couldn't resist if we tried. I didn't want anyone dying in vain."_

_Yet Iceland was having none of it. He was almost thirteen! He didn't want to be treated like a child anymore. "Or you did it 'cause you're a big wussy and you can't say no to people! I don't wanna stay with you anymore! You're just as much of a big stupid idiot as Big Brother says you are!" He pushed him away just for good measure, before running off, tears in his eyes. Denmark was too shocked by his outburst to run after him._

_Emil only stopped when he ran into someone and fell backwards on his butt. "Hey, watch where you're going, stupid!" He shouted, before looking up at who it was._

_There stood his Big Brother. He looked awful, to say the least. He was extremely skinny. Emil could even see that, under a large tear in his shirt, his ribs were sticking out. His whole body was covered in bruises and cuts, and there was a cut cloth being used as a bandage around his leg. Blood was running from his nose, and he had a black eye, the other eye red and puffy as if he'd been crying. Iceland instantly regretted his choice of words. Denmark had finally caught up to him, helping him up. Then he looked over to Norway._

_Denmark's hand started shaking in Emil's. His lip quivered as he processed what he was seeing. After a long moment, he finally forced himself to speak. "N-Nor... they didn't... you... he..."_

_Lukas didn't respond, backing up a bit, before running off. Emil ran after him. "Big Brother," he called, "wait for me! I miss you, Big Brother!"_

_Norway stopped in his tracks, before falling to his knees, trembling. Iceland slowly walked up to him and..._  and... what did he do after? Emil growled, trying to remember what he'd done. Nothing came to him.

He sighed, approaching his brother. He got no response, so he dropped to one knee, so he was at face level with Lukas. He gently lifted his chin so he could actually see his face. He gasped at what he saw. Norway was... crying?

"Noregur...?" He whispered softly.

Lukas simply averted his gaze, embarrassed.

Iceland sighed. They couldn't stop walking just because of this. "Fin, help me pick him up."

Finland nodded, walking over to the other two nations and easily picking the Norwegian up, slinging him over his shoulder with little effort, as if he were lighter than a sack of presents, which he was- it's presents for every kid in the world, after all. It gets heavier than most would think. Looking at you, Stacy, with your heavy ass Barbie jeep. Um... anyway, back to the story.

Emil watched him in slight disbelief, before shrugging and continuing onward. Finland is full of crazy surprises, after all.

_Later that day..._

The remaining Nordics' spirits had been drained all throughout the rest of that day's walk. Emil and Tino halfheartedly trudged onward, carrying Lukas along with them. They suddenly paused as they heard something falling over, glancing at each other. That had to be another person. The staff things went out of their way to avoid knocking anything over in the daytime, after all. Emil ran toward the sound.

The first thing he noticed was a fridge that had been knocked over, the doors both ripped off. The other refrigerators also had their doors ripped off.  _A shame,_  Emil thought, _those were probably some very sexy refrigerators. That one has a very beautiful looking freezer._ Then he had a very disturbing and embarrassing realization that made him stop ogling the refrigerators. His realization, in case you wanted to know, was not that they were inanimate objects without feelings or sexual organs, but that they were broken and that would be like a normal person ogling a bunch of skinned corpses.

Why was he here again? Oh yeah, mysterious creepy noise that he felt the need to investigate even though it could be very dangerous and he could get separated from his brother and Tino. Cursing himself for doing something so damn stupid, he continued onward.

Eventually, he found a man on his knees next to a refrigerator, one hand stroking its side. The Icelander couldn't quite see his face, but he could tell from here that he was a ginger. The stranger let out a broken sob, letting his head fall and resting his forehead on what used to be the hinge of a freezer door. He whimpered, comforting himself, with a noticeable (yet thankfully not nearly as thick as Berwald's) Swedish accent as he spoke. "It's 'k-'kay, Karl... d-don't cry... he's gone t' the b-big IKEA in the sky n-now..."

Emil briefly wondered if they were  _already_  in the big IKEA in the sky, before slowly approaching the man. He lowered himself to his knees, gently rubbing his back. This made the Swede jump, turning to him. Iceland had to do a double-take. This Karl guy looked  _exactly_ like a recolored version of Berwald, with green eyes and freckles! The only parts of his face that didn't resemble the Swede were the laugh lines indicating he actually knew how to express emotions. Emil did another double-take as the guy smiled at him. No way in Hell this was real. Then again, this whole damn place felt fake. 'Karl' chuckled at the shocked look on his face, waving. "Hallå! I didn't see y' there!"

Emil just stared at him, wide eyed. "W-Who are you?!"

"I'm Karl! Karl Oxenstierna!" He shrugged. "But sometimes my friends joke that I'm a ladderback birch. And you are?"

Iceland first wondered whether or not that was a stupid reference to something, before realizing that it was because the author was a piece of shit. The author decided not to break the fourth wall any worse and argue with him, because it was true. Iceland then wondered why the hell this Karl guy had the same surname as his Swedish friend, but decided to not ask about it. He awkwardly looked around for somewhere to run in case this guy tried to kill him, because he was getting serious creeper vibes from him. "Um... I'm Emil. Steilsson."

Karl smiled. "I have a friend named Eirikur whose last name 's also Steilsson. What a strange coincidence that is, huh?"

Emil nodded, a bit nervously as he stared down at the ground. "Uh huh... well, er, I have an Oxenstierna friend... he kinda looks like you, actually... but he's blond... blue eyes... odd attraction to lamps... have you... maybe, um, seen him...? His name is Berwald..."

Karl hummed in thought, before sadly shaking his head. "'Fraid not. I know a few settlements in 'ere that he might be hiding in, though."

Iceland looked up at him, his eyes widening with hope. "There are- there are other people here?!"

"What did y' think I was?"

"A hallucination caused by going mad from being trapped in a hellish IKEA for a month and a half?"

Karl laughed as he shook his head. "No, kid, 'm real flesh and blood!"

Emil rolled his eyes, internally cursing him out for calling him a kid. "Whatever. Let me get my friends and you can lead us to these 'settlements'."

Karl nodded, coming along with him to get Finland and Norway, making all of them extremely uncomfortable on the way to the  _Lockers_  settlement for varying reasons (Tino because of the uncanny resemblance to his missing husband, Lukas because of the mention of a Loki Bondevik who looked much like him having a new Danish boyfriend, and Emil because their side conversation about sexy refrigerators somehow lead to Karl mentioning that he'd been accused of being a pedophile numerous times).

By the time the lights were out, they had arrived at  _Lockers_  and Finland had set off happily to go find Sweden. Norway, fortunately, didn't need to look far to find his own boyfriend. Unfortunately, he found him shirtless and making out with another man.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey!! I'm sorry if you don't like 2Ps ;-; I swear I'll make them important to the story. I think I have a vague idea of where I want to go with this now and... ooh boy I think the title suddenly becomes much more fitting. But anyway, I'm trying to work out a proper update schedule and I'm going to start making my chapters longer! I think I'll start updating regularly every Friday or so.


	7. Lukas Erases Himself From The Narrative

Mathias, blissfully unaware of Lukas's gaze, wrapped his arms around Loki's waist, pulling him closer so their bodies were pressed against each other as their lips connected around tangled tongues once more. They'd been going at this for a while. Mathias, he truly didn't know how he wound up like this, tangled up in a web of lies. It all happened so fast. He found a safe haven, took shelter, did something stupid out of loneliness and desperation, and suddenly he was some guy called Magnus Køhler.

Name coincidence aside, Denmark really pitied this Magnus guy. His boyfriend- who apparently couldn't even tell his own lover apart from some stranger- was a fucking psycho. Numerous times, Loki had set something on fire simply because "fire is pretty". The pyromania was hard enough to deal with. Then, there were the... incidents where Loki would physically harm anyone who dared to look even vaguely interested in  _his_ man. Karl, who was Loki's best friend, had noticed that Mathias wasn't who Loki thought he was. Yet he dared not speak a word. Mathias only knew this because of a small conversation they'd had in private.

_A week after Denmark had arrived. By then, Mathias had been getting the hang of how things worked around here. How the staff attacked at night. How the other communities nearby- Cafe, Trolleys, Exchange, Playroom... whatever the sign above them said- would interact. How there probably wasn't an exit. How generally fucked he probably was. He'd also started responding to the name "Magnus," since everyone seemed to call him that._

_Speaking of everyone else... well, to say the least, he was unsettled. The main few he knew were Loki, of course, then his little brother Eirikur, and their other friends Karl and Toni. All of them seriously freaked him out._

_Loki, to begin with. He looked just like Lukas, except for his red eyes and red hair. Yet he acted nothing like Norway. He was way too emotional to be Norway. When he was happy, smiling and giggling at every little thing. When he was sad, bursting out in tears and sobbing loudly at even the smallest hints of irritation or indifference. When he was angry, a flamethrower pointed in your face. To see so much emotion on Norway's face terrified Denmark. At least he still got into arguments with his brother, but..._

_Eirikur actually enjoyed calling Loki "big brother". The first time he heard it come from the Icelander's mouth, he was sure this was some freaky fever dream. Even if he didn't look as similar to Emil, with his black hair and eyepatch, his good eye blood red. He didn't even act like him, either, his personality much like Loki's. In fact, Denmark had no idea why they didn't get along more. Eirikur idolized his brother. Hell, if they weren't related, one would think it was some kind of weird teleiophilic crush. Yet Loki completely rejected him, refusing to be called "big brother" and constantly pushing him away. Mathias had a feeling Lukas would love if his brother acted like that._

_Karl. He seemed normal enough compared to the others. A weirdly happy ginger version of Sweden. He was the only one of this strange group who didn't have red eyes. He had much more normal looking green eyes, full of kindness. He resembled his counterpart the least of them all. He seemed much older, wiser, and maturer than everyone else. Mathias had an odd kind of respect for him, and he suspected the feeling was mutual._

_Then there was Toni. He was the psycho version of Finland. He was the likely outcome of someone sucking all the sweetness from Tino and replacing it with more shotguns and death metal. Then again, Denmark didn't know much about him other than that he was a mythic bitch... or, a mythic bastard in this case. Mathias didn't dare fuck with Toni, and neither did anyone else. Except for Karl. Even if this got many a shotgun shoved in his face._

_Apparently the Finn had grown tired of his shit by now. Today, they had all had breakfast (meatballs, meatballs... more Swedish meatballs) and, after a few too many mentions of how much Toni "loves those Swedish balls," he'd gotten embarrassed and frustrated enough to storm off. He really didn't even have that much reason to be embarrassed since Mathias managed to keep his laughter in while Loki and Eirikur didn't seem to get the joke at all. Karl, naturally, was the first to get up and run after him. Denmark soon followed him out of unwillingness to be left alone with the pyromaniac brothers._

_After a while of searching with no results, Mathias found Karl lying on the ground with tears in his eyes. He sighed and decided to try and comfort him._

_"Hey, buddy... he'll be alright. He'll turn up again," Mathias reassured the Swede, gently stroking his arm. That was what typically calmed him down._

_Karl shook his head, his shaky voice low as a whisper. "That's what I said 'bout Magnus."_

_The Dane backed away a bit, a clear look of shock on his face. Karl smiled warmly up at him. "What? Did you really think I w's fooled? I know Magnus. You're not him. That said, I only referred t' ya as such for the sake of Loki's heart. The boy's quite fragile." He chuckled, extending his hand. "But that aside, who 're ya really?"_

_Denmark paused, slowly taking his hand and shaking it. "Mathias. Mathias Køhler."_

_Karl nodded. "Ah. Interesting." He looked around, jumping slightly. "Fan. Loki's looking f'r us. Y'know how he is over ya. We can talk later, alright?"_

Alas, they never had another private talk like that. Loki was always up in Mathias's business, and he never could get away. This was about when he started to regret not admitting his true identity earlier, as Norway had just approached him. His Norway. The real Norway. Lukas fucking Bondevik.

**_Shit._ **

Mathias quickly ripped himself out of Loki's arms, staring at Lukas with a red face that clearly displayed how badly he fucked up. Loki growled, tightly wrapping his arms back around the Dane. "What's the meaning of this?!" He hissed, glaring at Norway.

Norway glared at Denmark, putting a hand on his hip. "I ask the same, Mathias."

"It's Magnus," snarled Loki, "and he's MINE."

Lukas glanced down at him in confusion. "No. This is Mathias. Mathias Køhler. My..." He hesitated, his voice lowering so the nearby Iceland couldn't hear and tease him later, "My boyfriend."

Mathias gently pushed Loki away. "N-Nor, please l-let me explain- this was all a big m-misunderstanding-"

"A misunderstanding," Norway repeated, scoffing. "Yeah, right. What is there to misunderstand about his tongue down your throat?"

Denmark remained silent.

"I'll listen to whatever stupid excuse you have later." Lukas shook his head and turned away from him. "I'm leaving so I don't kill anyone in rage."

Mathias grabbed his wrist. "But Nor- I-I- A lot of people have been goin' missin' out there, a-and I don't know what I'll do w-without ya-"

Lukas turned his head back to him, scowling. "Just go fuck your new boyfriend if you get lonely."

He then ripped his arm out of Mathias's grip, walking away and leaving the Dane alone with Loki once more. Denmark collapsed, tears in his eyes. Loki was absolutely furious, demanding to know what and who the hell that was. But Mathias didn't respond. He didn't even hear him. Not over the voice in his head, screaming:

_**NORWAY IS IN DANGER! STOP HIM!** _

But he knew nothing he did could fix such a terrible mistake.


	8. What's The Motivation, Detective? Buttsex.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This is the definition of YIKES. This is where the edgefest begins.
> 
> TW: Implied rape, domestic violence/abuse, general edginess. 
> 
> I honestly feel bad for doing this to Norway :,)

Lukas ran. He ran as fast and as far as he could. He could not believe this was happening. He did not believe this was happening. He would not believe this was happening. It was all too crazy, too terrifying, too real. He wasn’t sure why he felt this way. He usually stood up to whatever he had to and faced his problems. He didn’t run away. He wasn’t a coward. Yet, something in him told him he had to run. He had to get out. He had to escape. It was the only way.

The only way for what, he was not sure. All he knew is that he could not stay here any longer. At some point, he simply collapsed. As he hit the floor, the lights went out. He felt arms around his waist. A large, muscular pair of arms. He could almost put a name to it, how familiar this felt. He knew who had him. Yet, he couldn’t think of who it was. He tried to struggle out of the person's grasp, only to realize he couldn’t move a muscle. He couldn’t do anything but lay limp as he was carried away.

When he woke up, Lukas found himself on the ground. He groaned, trying to get up. He still couldn’t move. He was vaguely aware of some noise. After a few minutes passed, he slowly opened his eyes. His vision was blurred and his thoughts muddled. A few more minutes passed. Norway could string together a few coherent thoughts. Based on his very limited senses, he could see someone pacing back and forth. But something was between them.

Lukas eventually gained full consciousness as he found the feeling slowly returning to his fingers. He was able to move them a bit now. Looking back to the pacing man, he noticed that what had come between them was... many, many table legs. He woke his body up as best he could until he could turn and get a better look at where he was. Norway realized that he was in a cage of sorts, made out of two IKEA tables and who knows how many extra legs for bars. There two were other cages, too. They both seemed to have people in them as well. They looked almost like Denmark and Finland, but not quite.

He growled and tries to break the bars down, but he couldn’t seem to summon any of his strength and all he did was make a ruckus before finally collapsing. The pacing suddenly stopped. The man started walking toward him.

“Ah, so y're 'wake,” said a deep, familiar voice.

“Sweden,” Norway growled. “What's the meaning of this?”

The Swede gave no response as he walked away. The man who looked like Denmark turned to Lukas. Now he noticed that he had red eyes and a short beard. It reminded him of Mathias after No Shave November. In fact, it looked nearly identical, minus the eye color and resting bitch face. He ignored that fact. It really didn’t help the heartbreak to think about how hot Mathias was with a beard, after all.

The Dane's lookalike looked just as weak and tired as Norway felt, if not more so. He looked the Norwegian up and down, before speaking in a deep voice that seriously threw Lukas off- he'd be lying if he said he hadn’t expected to hear Denmark's voice. But it was a pleasant surprise.

“You're not Loki.”

Norway shook his head, raising an eyebrow. “No...? Why would I be one of my old gods?”

“Your old... whatever.” The man sighed. “For a second I thought you were my ex... glad I could get away from that fuckin' psycho, but not like this is much better. Or worse. Who're you?”

“Funny... you look like my ex, too. My name's Lukas Bondevik.”

“Bondevik... that was his last name.” The Dane looked away. “Well, I'm Magnus Køhler. And before you ask what the hell is going on, I don’t know.”

Lukas raised an eyebrow. “Køhler? That... that’s odd.”

“What? That was his last name, too? Yeah, crazy coincidences...” Magnus paused. “Wait... Lukas Bondevik... heard that Swedish guy talkin' about ya. How ya broke his heart or whatever... lord of the IKEA... fuckin' crazy, I tell ya.”

Lukas paused as memories of nights with Berwald he'd nearly forgotten rushed back to him. In the 1800s, when they were married... some of those memories were the sweetest. But then again, plenty of them were also the most bitter. Their marriage never was perfectly stable, one day full of love and the Swede's constant affection, the next a shouting match accompanied by the bloodshed that should have been left in their Viking days. But now that he thought about it, he probably had broken Sweden's heart when he left. He remembered one particular night that nearly convinced him of that.

_May 18th, 1829._

_Lukas sat at the edge of the bed he shared with Sweden, hugging his knees to his bare chest as he stared down at the wooden floorboards, still stained with his blood from the night before. Tears welled up in his eyes as he remembered what Berwald had done. How he had cowered, unable to fight back as he was kicked and slapped around like a pathetic little punching bag. How he had cried out for someone, anyone to help, only to be silenced with the other's hand. The Swede's tight grip as he growled in his ear the whole time, how Norway belonged to him, how Norway could never belong to anyone else or leave. How betrayed and violated he felt that night. How, after stripping Norway of every last shred of his dignity, Berwald got a dagger and spelled out in cuts on the Norwegian's back:_

_**“Egenskapen av Sverige”** [Property of Sweden]_

Even in the present day, with that night nearly eighty-nine years ago, Lukas could feel the blade running through his flesh, scarring the message onto his body. It almost brought tears to his eyes, but he managed to hold it back. However, back then...

_Lukas felt sick to his stomach as he remembered that night, quickly looking away from the bloodied floor. Sweden would likely make him clean that later, anyway. He instead stared down at the sheets, freezing up as he noticed a few spots of blood on the sheets. He wondered briefly how those had gotten there, other than the cuts, before the (literal) pain in his ass reminded him again of just how overly rough Sweden had been. Especially without properly preparing him first. He figured Berwald would give him hell for getting his sheets bloody, never mind that Sweden himself was the reason why._

_He tensed again as he felt the Swede's burly arms around his waist. Berwald pressed a soft kiss to his neck before pulling him down until his face was resting against the taller man's chest. “M'rnin', pr'ncess,” he muttered._

_Lukas quickly wiped away his tears, resting one hand on Berwald’s bare chest, the other on his side. He knew Sweden wouldn’t get as mad at him for the bloody mess if he returned his affection. On his worst days, Sweden might have even hurt him if he was denied cuddles. Norway hated being forced to show affection like this, almost as much as he hated being claimed as someone else’s property and stripped of his own identity. But he knew he would be beaten if he rejected the Swede. So, he had no choice but to love on him while holding back his tears. “Good morning, my king,” he forced himself to say in the sweetest voice he could manage._

_Berwald hummed softly in acknowledgement, pulling Norway closer to him. The pair laid like that, their nude bodies intertwined in silence, for what seemed to Norway an eternity before Sweden pulled himself away. He slowly reached over to the nightstand, putting on his glasses and staring at Lukas, his piercing gaze running up and down his body as if scanning for any imperfection or sign of treachery. It always made Lukas uncomfortable when Sweden looked at him that way. He felt guilty of something, and Sweden usually wanted something from him. “T'rn 'round,” the Swede ordered._

_Norway nodded as he obeyed. He felt that same gaze boring into the cuts from last night, Berwald letting out a small chuckle of something like pride or superiority as he ran his thumb across the letters. Lukas hung his head in shame, his voice coming out small and meek. “I’m sorry for celebrating my constitution day. I wasn’t thinking right. I deserved the punishment. I shouldn’t have resisted your control over me. All I ask is that you don’t hurt me again.”_

Looking back on that moment, Norway felt both outraged and ashamed. He should have just acted on his bottled up anger and resisted. He should have done something. Anything would be less humiliating than submitting so pathetically. Especially after Sweden’s response.

_Berwald sighed, tightly hugging Norway and kissing his cheek. “No. ‘M s'rry. Y've got th' right t' express y'rself. Should've r'spected that. Shouldn't h've done... th's.”_

_Lukas blushed lightly, glancing back to him. “Sve? What do you mean...?”_

_Sweden shook his head, looking around and grabbing Norway's clothes from off the floor. Torn and bloodied. Lukas couldn’t go around in that. He got up, walking over to the closet to look for some of his own clothes to put on Lukas. He handed an outfit a few sizes too large to the Norwegian. “H're. Y' know how... p'ssessive we g't. Viking blood.”_

_Norway nodded, trembling slightly as he put on the clothes. They were a bit too big for him, but he was very comfortable in them. Sweden almost gave a hint of a smile at how cute Lukas looked in his clothes. Norway limped back over to him, falling into his arms. He wasn’t going to do much walking today... and Sweden's arms were very warm and comfortable, no matter how much Norway disliked him at the moment. He hummed softly. “You are very possessive of me, my king,” he rested his head against the Swede's chest, “but why aren’t you so possessive of Finland? Do you not love him truly? Otherwise the Finnish War would have lasted longer.”_

_Berwald hummed quietly in thought, holding Lukas close to him. After about a minute, his finally spoke. “L'ved y' since th' Viking d'ys.”_

_Norway raised an eyebrow. “But... back then was when I fell in love with Denmark, no?”_

_Sweden’s expression darkened a bit as he heard the name, and Norway tensed up, bracing himself for some kind of hit. Yet nothing came. Just a sigh. “Thought y' were m'ne. Brought y' s'me fl'wers... even wrote y' a poem. Went t' court y'. Found y' w'th th't Dane.” He smirked. “Y' looked th' v'ry def'nition 'f_ ergi _.”_

[A/N: Ergi literally translates from Old Norse to cowardly, unmanly, et cetera, but it also had connotations of... ahem, taking it up the ass. I just couldn’t think of a better English word to use there.]

_Lukas's face turned completely red. Had Sweden really seen him in such a position? Considering what had happened last night, it wasn’t so bad, but given the time period... well, the shame he'd felt when the rush of the moment was over had resurfaced all over again. “I’m... sorry you had to see me that way with someone else, my king,” he mumbled, “and... you still love me...?”_

_Berwald gave a tiny smile as he nodded, pecking Lukas on the lips. “Alw'ys h've. Alw'ys w'll.”_

Sudden snap back to present day. Lukas slowly nodded. “I... guess I did kind of break his heart...”

Magnus sighed, looking away. “That doesn’t explain why Toni and I are here, though.”

Lukas shrugged, thinking for a moment before coming to a possible conclusion. “Well... you do look like his archrival. And that Toni guy looks like his... er, wife.”

“Explains why he keeps calling him dear or sweetie or whatever.”

Norway paused, his heart sinking as he stared down at the ground. “So... what does he do with you guys? Why are you here?”

Magnus managed a small, almost condescending smile. “I'll let ya keep your innocence for now.”

 


End file.
